


Dave: Receive Disciplinary Call From Daycare

by iopeneditbeforechristmas



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, So stay tuned, alternate universe-modern au, daycare AU, i might make this into a long fic?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 14:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7760713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iopeneditbeforechristmas/pseuds/iopeneditbeforechristmas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bro?” Dirk asked, once Dave had high-fived him for the sword. “Are you going to marry Karkat?”</p><p>Dave spat out his coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dave: Receive Disciplinary Call From Daycare

**Author's Note:**

> sooo this is an au [thegoshdangdavekatgang](http://thegoshdangdavekatgang.tumblr.com/) on tumblr let me borrow because they are all fabulous and a quality blog. anyway, i love it, and i love this fic, and for once i am happy with something i wrote so yay! read oN!

If asked exactly how he came to have a brother twenty years younger than him, Dave Strider couldn't tell you. He also couldn't tell you where his dad had fucked off to, or why Dave had been left with the kid. It was just an incredibly tangled skein of thread in the vaster tapestry of paradox space and its unfair bullshit. Nappies and sippy cups and 4 am wake-up calls became a part of Dave’s life, and the inclusion of things like ‘toilet training’ and ‘weird rashes on a two-year-old’ made his internet history just that bit more respectable. Or worse. That depended on your perspective. Babies were supposed to be adorable little bundles of joy, yes, but there were times when Dave wondered if accidentally putting Dirk’s baby formula in his coffee was worth it all. 

But Dave wasn't one to complain, so he buckled down and tried to juggle raising a child and running a burgeoning multimedia anti-establishment empire. He wasn't famous, not exactly, not yet, so Dirk’s baby pictures remained confined to family albums instead of the paparazzi worldwide; which wasn't to say there weren't hurdles. There had been a tricky incident in a Starbucks where someone had run up and asked for Dave’s autograph, then promptly noticed the baby and his  _ fucking awesom _ e shades, cooed over him, realised how similar the two looked and then peppered Dave with questions for a good fifteen minutes. Eventually he came up with a story about adopting a baby for a day, and managed to explain the whole imaginary process with a straight face. It was completely ridiculous and exactly the sort of thing Dave would probably do. 

With a brother like that, Dirk was going to grow up to be a pretty cool kid. His smiles needed work, because they happened about once every month and looked like he was about to stab someone, but Dave’s therapist (a long story, but Nepeta was now a pretty trusted confidant) assured him that everything would sort itself out. 

When Dirk brought a sword to daycare for show and tell, Dave was tempted to ask for his money back. Personally, he thought it was cool. Dirk obviously thought it was cool. They were apparently the only ones.

Like, Dirk  _ was _ cool. That was a given. He was Dave’s little bro, and anyone who grew up in that kind of household basically lived off a diet of eyebrow-raising irony and sick beats. (And actual food, because Dave’s childhood meals had pretty much been  _ exactly that  _ and he still hadn’t entirely vanquished the nightmares, or the hoarding problem. And fuck if little Strider Junior was ever going to be anything but loved). 

But Dave was apparently failing in his brotherly duties, because Dirk had been told about show and tell and what it entailed and decided that a sword would be just the thing to wow all of his potential bros. 

Dave may have panicked when he received the phone call. 

“But it's not like he could have done something terrible,” he rambled, before anyone could explain what exactly Dirk had done, “Like, I'm not a  _ bad  _ guardian, I know where all the nappies are and dude, that's pretty hard to figure out let me tell you-”

“Mr Strider. I know exactly how hard it is to find nappies. It's not that  _ fuuuuck _ ...it's not that hard.” Karkat Vantas, Dirk’s daycare teacher, didn't appear to be a particularly patient man. Dave had seen him once, thought  _ short, shouty, that red sweater’s the fucking ugliest thing I've ever seen,  _ and swept Dirk off into the over-saturated Texas sunset. Then he'd realised that he would totally wear that sweater with a grand total of zero ironic inclinations and contemplated his life choices the entire trip home. The car was almost totalled twice. 

“Well then maybe you have some kind of super nappy finding skills because I spent a whole half hour trying to find those little shits, and my sister’s lost entire packets, so what I'm saying is maybe you should cut me some slack on the nappy-finding front.”

“Mr Strider, could we maybe talk about how Dirk decided a sword would be an appropriate item for show and tell?”

“No way, that's fucking awesome.”

“No it isn't!” Vantas yelled. Dave thought his eardrum might burst. “It is in no way in any world awesome to bring a  _ sword  _ to a  _ daycare.  _ How is that awesome?”

“Okay look, you have to admit that it's pretty cool. A sword, dude, he brought a sword. Which one was it?”

“He called it the unbreakable katana.”

“Sweet.”

“Did you tell him to bring the sword? Because I'm beginning to doubt your capabilities as a guardian, Mr Strider.”

“Well okay look,” Dave said quickly. “It's not like I told him to bring it or anything. He never even mentioned show and tell, I didn't even know you guys did that sort of shit, like, I'm innocent here and it's obviously the first offence so I’ll just take him home and explain-”

“Last week he brought a-” Vantas paused. He sounded slightly embarrassed. “A...look, this week he brought a sword and last week it was a  _ smuppet _ , so could you please just control your son and-”

“Brother.”

“I'm sorry?”

“He's not my son, he's my little brother.”

“Oh, um...okay, well, please control your brother-”

“And before you ask, I don't know where my dad is and if you're going to judge-”

“Mr Strider, I didn't ask. And your personal life is literally nowhere near my concern, and you know what? I am incredibly grateful for that, because having you in my work life is terrible enough.”

“Okay dude, seriously? Are we doing PTA shit? Did you just go there, Susan?”

“My name is not Susan.”

“If you don't like it you can be Helen and I'll be Susan.” 

“You know, I decided to give you the benefit of the doubt. I thought that maybe it was Dirk who was just naturally obsessed with irony at four years old. I pictured you as slightly harassed and just incredibly done with your precocious brother. I'm now sorry for pinning all the blame on Dirk, because I'm sure he'd be a bloody great child without your obnoxious influence.”

“Hey, dude, there's no need to be a dick about it, I'm sorry about the sword. I'll talk to Dirk about it. It won't happen again.”

Privately, Dave wanted to add that it wouldn't happen again because Dirk would not be attending this particular daycare again, but he knew that finding another one would be far more hassle that it was worth. Also Dirk seemed surprisingly attached to this Vantas man, with a careful and inconsiderate amount of sincerity Dave was pretty sure he never showed when he was four. It was fucking annoying, that's what it was, because Dave would be quite happy if he never saw Karkat Vantas again. 

That was unfortunate, because when Dave finally arrived to pick Dirk up he got his first good look at Karkat. All prior assumptions went out of the window. Karkat Vantas was  _ hot.  _ A bit on the short side, maybe, but his dark hair was fluffy and artfully tousled and Dave couldn't get rid of the urge to run his fingers through it. The red sweater had been swapped out for a polarneck and it was actually almost cute.

Frazzled, Dave grabbed Dirk and ran, dropping only cursory greetings to Karkat and Kanaya before hightailing it out of there. 

“Bro?” Dirk asked, once Dave had high-fived him for the sword. “Are you going to marry Karkat?”

Dave spat out his coffee. “Why would I marry Karkat? Dirk, what the hell!”

“Cos Karkat said Kanaya was gonna marry Auntie Rose and you looked at Karkat like you were gonna marry him.” 

Dave debated whether explaining how Rose was not actually Dirk’s aunt and instead his big sister would be more or less painful than a potential attraction to Karkat. 

He decided that no, their fucked-up family tree was easier, and launched into a description about Rose and Roxy, complete with air diagrams. Dirk listened attentively, punctuating Dave’s train of speech at the most awkward times, with the kind of questions that made Dave wonder just what the fuck went on in Karkat Vantas’s daycare.   
But despite himself, Dave found that being civil to Karkat was a lot nicer than being an asshole, and drawing dicks over a whiteboard is only innappropriate if the children see. And if, many weeks later, he found himself accepting Karkat’s grumbled offer of coffee with a wink and a lot of internal squealing; well, that was just serendipity. Some things were meant to happen. Karkat Vantas was apparently one of them. 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at [tentacleauxiliatricks](http://tentacleauxiliatricks.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
